


Liminal

by webofdreams89



Category: Marvel (Comics), Young Avengers
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Friendship, Infidelity, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:04:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webofdreams89/pseuds/webofdreams89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere deep inside her, America hopes that it means something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liminal

**Author's Note:**

> This story has a Trigger Warning for mentioned past sexual assault. It isn't anything even remotely explicit, but I wanted to put a warning just in case. Also, sexual content, hence the Mature rating.
> 
> This story is also posted on my tumblr and may be also put up on my ff.net account.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

America knows she isn’t the only one to see Kate like this - head thrown back, chest heaving, slick and wet at the center between her legs. Noh-varr fits into it somehow, but she isn’t exactly sure how. Whether he knows and is okay with it, whether he knows and doesn’t mind, or if he’s helplessly in the dark. 

That last one leaves America with a surge of guilt she’d much rather ignore.

They’ll figure it out someday, most likely, but it doesn’t matter right now. Not when Kate is panting and clutching America’s hair in a deathgrip, saying her name over and over like it means something.

Somewhere deep inside her, America hopes it does. She pushes that down to analyze later when she isn’t nose deep in muff.

\--

It’s while they’re in a diner, grabbing some food after one of their many fruitless attempts of chasing after the Patriot imposter. America’s tired, can barely even remember where they are even though she’s the one with the reins of their interdimensional caravan. It doesn’t really matter though, where they are. She knows they won’t stop until Billy’s brother is safe, until Mother and Patriot are defeated, and that’s okay. 

America has time to kill and her traveling companions are alright, even Loki. For the most part. Though she doesn’t trust his scrawny Asgardian ass as far as she could punt him. So yeah, that’s all okay.

What isn’t okay is the sudden, intense coil of anger and jealousy and frustration that rips through her gut as she glances out the corner of her eye at the couple sitting next to her. Noh-varr has his arm slung over Kate’s shoulders and Kate’s laughing as she stuffs French fries into his mouth.

America’s sure that Kate isn’t doing it on purpose. She hasn’t known her all that long, but America doesn’t see Kate as the type to be deliberately hurtful. 

This thing between them - the quick and heavy make-out sessions in the galley when they’re supposed to be washing dishes and the fond way Kate’s hand slides over America’s ass when she thinks no one is looking – it was never supposed to go this far. 

But it did, and now America doesn’t know what to do. This isn’t something she can punch her way out of, and that alone is absolutely terrifying. 

\--

It was fun in the beginning after that first time in the galley while David and Loki and Noh-varr went out to restock supplies and Teddy and Billy no doubt sought time alone themselves. 

America saw her walk into the galley from where she leaned against the wall, disinterestedly inspecting her nails. There was something about the quick look Kate tossed her before stepping into the room that compelled America to follow her. Something felt off.

Sure, she’d noticed the other girl before now. It was hard not to pick up on clever tilt of her eyebrows when she was deep in thought or the wry smiles she gave everyone when her brain was going a mile a minute. America noticed her a lot.

When America entered the galley, Kate had her back to her, long dark hair hanging down her back in waves. Her shoulders had a tense set to them, occasionally giving the slightest of shudders. 

America liked her girls tough as nails, and Kate was the toughest. So it was startling seeing her like this, not vulnerable exactly, but so very raw and human. Without a thought, America began walking towards her, placing a hand on Kate’s shaking shoulder. She breathed in sharply and turned her head to look at the other girl.

“I came in her to make room for the new supplies,” Kate says, and America can feel her tremble under her hand.

“Uh huh,” she encourages, lightly rubbing small circles into the top of Kate’s arm with her thumb.

“You know, I used to get panic attacks a lot. A-after I was r-raped. That’s when I began figuring out ways to p-protect myself.” She says it all in rush, her stuttered words softer than America’s ever heard them.

Immediately, she pulls her hand back. It had never even occurred to her.

“It’s okay,” Kate says after a moment, turning around to face the taller girl. “I don’t mind if you touch me. But thanks. I mean, for respecting that.”

America isn’t sure what to think. She wants to touch Kate, but at the same time, she doesn’t want to do anything that might hurt or upset her either.

Kate senses her hesitation and reaches forward, grabbing America’s hand in her own. She laces their fingers together and in a rush, America can only think about how right it feels. She stares down at their hands, noting how pale Kate’s skin is against her own, how cold her hand really is.

To break the silence, she asks, “Do you want to talk?” 

Kate offers her a half-smile. “I didn’t really come in here to make room for supplies. I just felt a panic attack coming on while I was walking down the hall and I didn’t want you to see it.”

America is silent but steadfast in her gaze. Kate can feel the pulse in America’s thumb on her skin and it is a comfort.

“I think…I think you being here actually stopped it from coming.” Kate looks thoughtful as she says this and it makes America wonder.

Before she can dwell on it too long, Kate is leaning in close, her hot breath ghosting across America’s face, and she asks, “Can I kiss you?”

America doesn’t answer, just leans in the rest of the way to press her lips to Kate’s. 

The kiss is sweet and as chaste as kisses between teenagers can be, before Kate breaks it off and flees the room.

Later that night, long after the boys got back, America hears her bedroom door creak open. Cracking her eyes open, she watches Kate cross the floor to her in the miniscule lighting. The bed dips down, and America feels a hand on her hip. 

“Is this okay?” Kate asks, again her voice soft, and America breaths, “Yes,” before Kate’s pushing America onto her back and straddling her. Their lips meet again for the second time that day, but it feels as different from the first time as can be.

Now, Kate’s hands are everywhere, running through America’s curly hair, clutching her shirt, slipping beneath it. She finds that America doesn’t sleep with a bra on and moans in surprise as her hands close around America’s breasts, cupping them, kneading them, rolling her nipples between her fingers while America is panting harshly underneath her.

It makes Kate feel powerful, the way she can make America moan when she moves her hips just right or how, even though the room is nearly pitch black, she can just feel America’s eyes on her as she slides the girl’s panties down her legs before settling between them. And when America quivers around Kate’s fingers buried in her deeply, Kate thinks she’s never felt so alive and she wants to feel it again and again.

So it becomes something they don’t talk about, but act on nearly every time they’re alone. 

It becomes something America couldn’t put words to if she tried.

\--

“Do you want to talk about it?” Billy asks her one day.

It is such a common thing to ask, almost trivial, and yet America thinks back again to that day months ago when she asked Kate those same words. She thinks about that day a lot, too much if she’s willing to admit it to herself. She doesn’t want to.

Of course, she knows immediately what Billy’s talking about. Kate and Noh-varr are across the room, curled up together and talking in low voices. He might be someone that doesn’t always think things through before he acts, but he seems to be perceptive. 

His other half is off somewhere with Loki and David, and Billy has been giving her a thoughtful look for some time now.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” she says, much more gruffly that she intends, but he seems to understand just the same.

“That’s okay,” he says, offering her a friendly smile.

America wishes she could give him one in return, but her insides are again roiling and she hates it. She didn’t know what she expected when she got involved with someone in a relationship, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t the insane jealousy at having to watch from afar until she can have her scraps in the confines of a bathroom or broom cupboard.

“What are you going to do?” Billy asks a while later. America’s eyes snap to him. She had been staring at Kate that entire time without realizing it.

She sighs. “Honestly, chico, I don’t have a fucking clue.”

“Yeah,” he says, cracking a sardonic smile, “that’s usually how it goes.”

That’s when America knows she needs to end it.

\--

America is so distracted that she doesn’t even notice when Noh-varr stops next to her until he speaks. She has been leaning against the wall, pretending nothing matters, because that’s who she is supposed to be. Taciturn, cynical, intimidating. That’s the role she’s been playing most of her life until Kate came along and shattered everything she thought she knew about herself.

He leans against the wall too, and they both look at Kate. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he asks America wistfully.

“Yeah, she is,” she replies without thinking. It’s too late now anyway, so what does it even matter anymore. Noh-varr won even though it was never much of a game to America.

“I’ve never known anyone like Kate,” he goes on. His arms are crossed and he seems far from the guy that fanboys over Nina Simone and makes up his own corny catchphrases. 

Maybe it is just a shell for him too.

“Yeah, me neither,” America agrees again.

“She’s so strong most of the time, but once in a while, it seems like she’s barely holding it together. She doesn’t talk to me about it. For some reason, I don’t think she can, maybe because I’m a guy. But she can talk to you, America, and I know she does.”

She looks over at him. Noh-varr’s gaze is now on her, but he looks thoughtful, more thoughtful than she’s used to.

“Kate and I have talked about it. I don’t know how things are going to work out exactly,” Noh-varr admits, “but she needs you. She needs you more than she needs me.” It sounds like it pains him some to say it. 

America’s heart begins to flutter wildly in her chest and she looks over at Kate. Eventually, Kate looks up from the bow she is working on, staring intently back. She sets aside the bow and gets up, walking over to America. She almost doesn’t notice Noh-varr slipping out of the room.

Kate reaches her, stopping just inches away. Loki pauses in the story he is telling Teddy (the only one who will listen). David notices a shift in the room and also spares them a glance, and Billy is smiling softly at her.

And Kate, she’s leaning forward, her lips brushing America’s, and America thinks that this, yeah, this is okay.


End file.
